Dearly Beloved
by Ellie-Ohhh
Summary: She had an idea, albeit a crazy idea. Tomorrow was Christmas and no one deserved to be alone, not even him. So, she changed quickly and set off in the direction of Mt. Crumpet. Teenage MarthaMay and Grinch, AU, smut. CONTINUED.


A/N: Hello! This is a re-edited version of my kind-of one shot Grinch/MarthaMay smut. I have decided to turn it into a full on story. So please, keep an eye out for the next chapter and re-read this one! It's not _insanely_ different, just re-worded, a little bit added, and most of all, spell checked! Let me know what you think!

* * *

She sat back on her bed, brushing out her long hair, and she couldn't help but think about him. She always thought about him, especially around this time of year. She could clearly see Mt. Crumpet from her giant picture window, she stared at it everyday, wondering. She wondered what he was doing up there, all alone.

Crumpet was a mountain, so where did he live?

Not in Whoville, that was for sure.

She sighed at the memory of that last Christmas she shared with him, that anyone shared with him. It seemed all the memories she had of him were bad ones, ones where he was scowling and angry, throwing Christmas trees and glaring dangerously.

Except, well...except when she would turn and look at him and he would smile softly at her, his eyes gentle, yearning. She missed him. They were never actually friends, she only spoke in actual full sentences to him a few times, most of the other times she was too nervous and became the queen of one word responses. Yes, Martha May Whovier, haughty princess of Whoville, miss popular, Homecoming Queen four years in a row, was stripped of all her glory and all her confidence when in front of the Grinch – someone who most deemed, _unworthy_.

She set her brush down on the table beside her and got up to gaze out of her window, did those thoughtless little pigs that they went to school with even realize what they had done?

Did they even recognize that the reason for Grinch's leaving was because of how badly they had treated him?

Of course not. Because they were blameless, always blameless.

The Grinch was a freak, unnatural, and imperfect in their pristine Who-society. He didn't fit in, so it wasn't a shame that he was cast out. It was _better this way_, as she had heard people say so many times before after his self-exhile.

It made her just, so _angry_. She hated what the "Who-standard" was, hated that she fit into it so well from the outside and was miles apart from it on the inside. It tore at her, and she wondered if that's how he felt at times. Torn.

She couldn't help but wonder though, he miss her?

She sighed settling down on the window seat, still gazing out at Mt. Crumpet in all it's giant, snowy, treacherous glory. Would this be the rest of her life? Sitting forlornly by a window, staring out at a piece of rock, hoping to catch a glimpse of an angry boy from her past?

She was pretty, popular, funny, rich, she had a boyfriend who cared for her and bought her pretty things...so, why was her mind always consumed with the Grinch?

Sure, she had empty friends and broken promises hidden up her sleeve, her boyfriend Augustus Maywho was by force, not choice, and she was pretty but, beauty was only skin deep. She wondered if the only reason the Grinch had liked her was because of the same reasons everyone else did.

This would be the ninth christmas without him, his ninth christmas alone, his ninth birthday uncelebrated. It hardly seemed fair, that he had to spend his time all alone. Thinking back on that day, he did seem to over react just a tiny bit, throwing the tree and leaving for good in an overdramatic fashion. But, she had felt his anger, his sadness, humiliation, so she couldn't blame him, she just had hoped he would've come back by now.

Looking at the clock she bite at her lower lip, she had an idea, albeit, a crazy – probably stupid – idea. Tomorrow was christmas and no one deserved to spend that alone, not even him. So, she changed quickly, left a note for her parents – who in all honesty wouldn't read it anyway – and made her way into the cold, in the direction of Mt. Crumpet.

* * *

It was late Christmas eve, not yet morning but close to it. He laid on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, mentally blaming it for everything that had happened to him. Christmas was the only time of year that he let himself wallow in anger and sadness, it only seemed appropriate.

He had decided to leave, he wanted to, needed to. But, he also had expected someone – anyone – to come after him, telling him they were sorry for all the wrongs in his short life, and that they wanted him to come home. Nine years and that never happened, and after the first two he knew it wasn't going to. He made his home on Mt. Crumpet, using everyone else's trash to make it his own, no one came up there anyway, and now no one would ever. And as happy as that fact made him, it also made him sad. He couldn't change who he was, it wasn't his fault he was a cross between a Who and a What, he wondered why people thought it was.

He didn't ask to be this way, but he shouldn't be outcasted for accepting it either.

He didn't need them though, he was perfectly fine on his own, all the way up here, and alone. He did miss her though, for as much pain as she caused him, he missed her. She probably wouldn't remember it, but she was actually his first friend, not just his first crush, his first love.

They had met when they were much younger, in Pre-Who-School, and she had offered to color with him when all the others wouldn't. He knew then that he was in love with her, that she was kind. Then they started growing and she became more beautiful, she had more friends, and people thought she was stuck up, but he knew she wasn't. He knew by the way she looked at him from across the room, a small smile on her lips, and one in her eyes, her hushed tones and gentle touches. She wasn't a bitch like they all whispered.

Well, not then at least.

Just because he didn't live in Whoville, didn't mean he didn't know what was going on down there. His Who-class was graduating this year, they were all seventeen and eighteen, going off to get married and become apart of Whoville for real. It made him sick. But, not as sick as the news of Martha May actually dating that sloth Augustus Maywho. Now, that made him angry. His jaw clenched and his fists tightened at the thought, was she stupid? That ingrate was the one who ruined his life, and now she was dating him? It made him, quite literally, sick.

Yet, as much as he tried – and oh, he had _tried_ – he couldn't really stay mad at Martha May. It wasn't really her fault this happened, it was that little shit Augustus'. He let out a sigh. He wondered what she looked like now, what her voice sounded like, her smile and her eyes. Did she wear her hair in those ridiculous up-dos, as was the fashion in Whoville. Had she filled out yet, gotten her nose? So many things he wished he knew about her, just so he could say he knew it. What was her favorite color, book, her favorite thing to do?

He figured he'd never really know the answers to those questions, or anything else about her, that ship had sailed long ago. He closed his eyes and drifted off into an uneasy sleep, Martha May still on his mind, but pushed back into his subconscious, letting him fall easily into the darkness.

* * *

He wasn't sure how long he had been asleep – had he even fallen asleep? – or what time it actually was, all he knew was there was something or someone knocking at _his_ door. He got up with a stomp and from his room on the lower floor, walked up and over to the door. He scowled mentally at the rhyme. He hated rhyme. Yanking the heavy door open without looking through the eye-scope, he almost fainted with shock and surprise.

There standing before him with a present in her hands was Martha May Whovier, a small smile placed on her full lips. He glanced her over, her dark blond hair was down and wavy, a lose finger wave in the front to give it 'oomph'. Her cheeks were a roguish red from the winter wind, giving her porcelain skin some color. Her wide eyes were still that ocean blue, still so deep and full of wonder, framed by dark lashes. And those full, pale pink lips that would open into a brilliant smile. He observed her curved nose, she had never really grown into her 'Who nose', but it was unique like her. She was simply wearing a blue coat and tight black pants, he wondered where her poofy skirts and matching gloves had gone too.

She noticed him glancing her over – _good,_ she thought, _let him gaze_ – and she couldn't help but do the same. He wasn't unequivocally tall and lanky like all the other boy-who's she knew, but he was tall, with these broad shoulders and a lean frame. She already knew how strong he was, she could only wonder if he was stronger now.

He was leaning his weight on both arms, one on the door and the other on the doorframe, taking her in. He looked good, he had always looked good, but he was older now and she had a different meaning for that term. She finally found her voice, her body was numb – from the cold or him she wasn't exactly sure.

"So, can I come in?"

He blinked a few times, confusion as well as other emotions were still displayed in his green eyes. But, before she could even blink, he had grabbed her and pulled her inside, slamming the door closed and pressing her body her against the door.

He raised an eyebrow at her, "What are you doing here." His voice was deep and he was so close to her that she could feel his warm breath on her, still slightly numb, face.

"I-I came to see you."

He smirked at her, was he...rattling Miss Martha May? "You came to see me?" He dropped his smirk and narrowed his eyes, looking directly into her's. "Why."

"Why?" Her eyes were wide, her breathing slightly labored and she hadn't even done anything yet. How was it that he always managed to reduce her to _this – _a stuttering, doe eyed, little_ girl – _where was the Martha May everyone knew and worshiped? She pushed herself up a little higher, "Because, no one should be alone on Christmas, not even you."

He cut her off before she could finish whatever other bullshit she was about to spew, turning away from her, his arms thrown up in the air. "Oh, Martha May, don't give me that inbreed, Whoville bullshit." He turned back to her in a mocking voice, "No one should be alone on Christmas, because it's the most _wonderful_ time of the year! Simply pure _celebration_." He narrowed his uncommonly green eyes, his voice dropping the mock sweetness and returning to its deep drone. "I've been alone on Christmas for nine years, so tell me, why is this one so special."

"Fine," She marched over from her place on the door, to where he stood a few feet away. "You want to know the real reason why I dragged myself all the way up here?" Her voice was stern, her gaze set, and the perfectly wrapped present she had brought at her feet.

"Do enlighten me."

He crossed his arms over his chest and she mirrored him as they stared angrily at each other. "I'm here because I missed you, and I'm finally old enough to do something about it."

He quirked a brow at her statement, but tried his hardest not to let it his shock show, narrowing his eyes again. Well, he wasn't expecting that.

"Bullshit."

He watched as her beautiful face became appalled and she leaned closer and pushed hard at his broad shoulder. Although it really didn't hurt all that much, it was the surprise that she actually struck him that sent him stumbling a little. They continued to stare at one another, her face set into an angry pout, his brow furrowed and eyes squinted.

He didn't really know what to say, "You...missed, me?"

She sighed in defeat, letting her arms drop to her sides. "Yes. Why is that so hard for you to comprehend?"

He chuckled darkly, walking away from her. "Because, I'm the _Grinch _sweetheart, nobody misses me."

She picked up her present from the floor, hurrying to follow him down to the lower level. Well, this was going better than she planned, although she hadn't really gotten this far in her original plan, she kinda expected him to kick her out by now.

He was rambling on about something, she couldn't really understand him, she was too amazed by the machines and contraptions that were all around her. Not looking where she was walking and instead looking at some giant thermostat, she walked right into him. She closed her eyes, expecting to feel the hard ground against her body, but instead when she opened one eye she found herself face to face with him. She looked to her right and saw how close they were to the ground, damn he had some good reflexes. And some _delicious_ muscles. She couldn't help but look at the flexed arm muscles supporting her weight in this strange position, as if she weighed nothing.

_Cue Swooning._

"You should watch were your going."

His voice sounded slightly gruff as if he were angry, but one look in his eyes and she could tell he wasn't really. He pulled her up straight and moved away from her, being so close to her did bad things to his mind and body.

"You made all this?"

There was a slight awe in her voice as she looked around, he couldn't help but feel a little smug at his handy work. "Is that so hard to believe."

She looked at him quickly. "No, no, it's just, it's amazing. I never knew you were this good at building things."

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me, sweetheart."

She looked back to him, his arms crossed over his chest, a smirk on his thin lips, a playfulness in his eyes that she had only ever dreamt of seeing. "So, why don't you tell me about them."

He stepped closer to her, "I don't think a girl like you could handle it." He fingered a piece of her silky hair, looking into her eyes. "You know, it's really not safe for a girl like you to be up here, all alone, with with me."

"And why's that?" She realized she might've sounded just a _little_ desperate with her voice all airy and breathless like it was, but right now, she could've cared less how it made her sound.

He leaned in close to her, moving his mouth to her ear, whispering. "Because, no one will be able to hear you scream."

When he pulled back, he saw that she was obviously flustered, she couldn't help the pink tinge to her cheeks or the waver in her voice. "I-I thought that was a good thing."

He sighed with exasperation, his voice lowered, sounding almost tired. "What are you doing, Martha May?"

"Here." She thrust the box into his hands, unable to think of anything else to do. "Be careful with it."

He looked at her before shaking his head and throwing the lid off the pristinely wrapped box. Once again, Martha May had found a way to surprise him. He thought it would be some expensive gift or something so stupidly Who-like. Instead, nestled in a dark green blanket was a brown puppy. He was a baby, a mutt, alone. Just like him. He looked up into Martha's eyes, honestly not knowing what to say.

"I figured that since you weren't planning on coming back anytime soon...well, I just didn't want you to be alone anymore. He didn't have anyone and I couldn't think of a better person for him."

He shook his head, brushing the puppy's soft fur with a long finger, watching as it snuggled deeper into the blanket. "Martha, I - "

"You don't have to say anything, just...promise me you'll take care of him."

His voice was low and his eyes were soft when he looked at her. "You know I'd do anything for you."

He watched as her shoulders slouched, a small smile on her full lips. This is what she had been yearning for, that look in his eyes as he stared at her, the gentle tone in his voice, gone with the sarcasm and the anger. She bent down and took the bow off of the lid, standing back up and placed the bow on the top of her blue coat. Grinch looked at her with confusion in his eyes, her breathing was a little heavier, her cheeks flushed.

"There's one other present I want to give you." His eyes went to the bow on her throat. "Open it."

He put the box with the puppy in it down, and stood before her, slowly unbuttoning each big red button. The more he unbuttoned, the more skin was revealed, and the more her breathing increased. Once each button had been undone, she let the jacket fall from her shoulders. She just kept shocking him, he tried to keep his gaze on her eyes, _tried_ being the key word. Eventually his gaze went lower and his eyes went wide, she was standing before him in only her black pants, her top half completely bare. His eyes traveled down the column of her neck, to her collarbones, down to her chest – large and perky with rosebud red peaks standing straight – down over her flat stomach, to her protruding hipbones.

He watched as she grabbed the bow again and put it on the button of her black pants. She looked up into his eyes, finding confidence in the way his adams apple bobbed and the way his hands shook lightly. "Open it."

He reached forward again, placing the bow on the top of her head, and popped the button on her pants. He tugged them off her hips, down her calfs, and let her step out of them before standing back up in front of her. He looked into her eyes as she took a step closer to him, "Martha, I'll ask you again. What are you doing?"

"Look, I know you haven't been around other people for a while, but I think it's pretty obvious what I'm doing."

His eyes grew distant and cold as a realization hit him. "Is _he_ making you do this? This is all just a prank right, to ruin the Grinch's life even more."

She was stuck with stock, stepping back just slightly. How could he think that this had _anything_ to do with Augustus? "No. I'm doing this because I _want_ to, not because Augustus said so. He doesn't control every aspect of my life."

"Oh, just part of it then."

"Are you really arguing with me while I'm standing here in my underwear?" His eyes narrowed as he took the sight of her in, she looked so pure, so untouched, why would she want to dirty her body with him for any other reason then to humiliate him? "Grinch," Her voice was soft, soothing almost as she stepped closer to him. "I-I've never done...this before, no ones ever...touched me. I'm giving myself to you, because, well, because..."

"Because, what Martha May."

"Because, I'm in love with you." She looked down, suddenly shy again. "I've always been in love with you." She bite at her lower lip, "I've thought about doing this for the past couple years, coming on up here to see you, to..._touch_ you. I just never had the excuse or the confidence to pull it off before now."

She really needed to stop this nonsense with surprising him, he was going to have a coronary if she didn't. He brought his hand to her hip and brought the other one gently to her cheek, rubbing his thumb over the blush on her cheekbone. She wouldn't lift her eyes to meet his no matter how many times he asked, so he slide his hand down her neck, over her heaving chest, down her flat stomach, and into the front of her little white underwear. He heard her gasp and she brought her head to rest on his chest as her breathing became labored.

He stroked her gently, slowly. Her hands came up to his arms, gripping his biceps and trying to stay up right. That was proving to be hard when he put one of his long fingers in her, she moaned, grabbed his upper arms tighter, and burrowed her face into his chest with more force. He knew she was telling the truth about never being touched, when he slide his finger in and out of her, he could feel her shuddering, feel the shivers and gasps that came from her body. He believed her. He so badly wanted to believe her. So, he did.

He felt himself get excited at the thought, this all had to be a dream, a dream he'd definitely had before. He increased the speed of his hand, which increased the moans coming from her and decreasing the strength of her legs at the moment. She looked up at him, eyes pleading, "Grinch – ah!"

He pulled his hand away and deftly picked her up. He walked over to the bed in the secluded part of the cavern and laid her down on it gently, just gazing at her. Her chest heaved, her cheeks held a rosy hue to them in the dim light coming from the other part of the cave, her legs so unbelievably long. How many times did he picture this, dreamt it, wished for it, felt it?

She sat up and reached for him, pulling him down between her legs, letting all of his weight rest on her body. She ran her hand down his cheek, looking into his eyes. She pulled his head down to meet hers, his lips hovering for a moment before descending down hungrily upon her's. The kiss was passionate, but sweet. Even though he had super strength it seemed, he moved across her skin with such a gentleness that even surprised him.

He moved his mouth over her burning skin, nipping at her neck and collarbones, loving the little noises it produced from her. She ran her hands down his chest, not minding the hair, it only added to his appeal. He let out a growl when her small hands found their way to his obvious arousal, her fingers were clumsy and inexperienced, but he had never felt anything more satisfying that that.

Although he had never touched a woman, never seen one naked, he seemed to move about her with an air of confidence and experience that he honestly didn't have. He buried his head in her neck, his breath coming out in harsh pants as the movement of her hand increased. He brought his hand down to cover hers, grasping tighter and tugging more fiercely, only increasing the growls in his throat and the force of his face against her neck.

He didn't last long after that, he could feel the on coming tightness and the heat pooling in his abdomen. He continued to move her hand harder with his until he stilled and she could feel the slippery substance dripping on her fingers and across her hand and belly.

Grinch released her hand and she let go of him, only to put her hand back into his, entwining their fingers together. His breathing was coming out harsh when he lifted his head to look at her, her flushed face, the small smile on her full lips, the sparkle in her eyes. He leaned down and slowly, softly kissed her. Moving his mouth languidly over hers, letting her tongue delve into his mouth, nibbling on her bottom lip. He felt her long legs hook around his narrow waist, arching her back off the bed. He could feel her softly grinding her waist into his, causing the painful throb to once again return to his loins, her wet folds soaking his fur.

"Martha - "

"Shh," She pressed a kiss to his lips, effectively silencing him. "Don't. I know what you're going to say, and just, don't. I've wanted you since I knew what lust and love were, and I know you want me too."

He closed his eyes for a moment, his jaw clenched. "You have no idea."

The truth was he had wanted Martha May, he had wanted her since he met her. He only realized a few years ago what the term 'want' actually meant, and how he wanted to use it in regards to Martha May. He hated the Whos, every last one of them, except her. He could never hate her; he wanted her, desired her, needed her, _loved_ her.

...love?

He had never known what love actually was. No one loved him, he loved no one, that was, until now. Yes, he loved her. He loved Martha May. Thinking back on it, he always had, he had always loved her. But this, this was different, this was a different kind of love. This was a soul consuming, passion inducing, mind fogging, love. He had never wanted to be part of it, seeing Whos lovestruck and stupid, giggly and smiley, it made him sick.

But, could he still bring himself to hate it in other people when he himself was experiencing it right now?

"So, stop talking, and fuck me. Make love to me. Do whatever you want, just _do_ it."

There was that word again.

_Love._

He was the Grinch, all of Whoville taught their younger ones to fear him. He was exiled, ugly, a crossbreed, did he even know how to 'make love'? How could she want him to?

She looked into his green eyes, dark with lust but hazy with confusion. She knew what he was thinking about, she knew he had a tendency to over analyze things, but why couldn't he just stop and love her already? She huffed, fed up with his internal battle nonsense, and narrowed her eyes at him. She could feel him, hard and ready, pressing against her, all she had to do was angle her hips and...

She gasped, squeezing her eyes shut, clenching her jaw and tightening her hold on his biceps. Slight pain rippled through her midriff, well, she hadn't been expecting that. He sucked in a breath and let out a low moan at the sensation of his arousal being thrust into her tight walls unexpectedly, but he quickly looked down to see her still, her beautiful face scrunched up in discomfort.

"No, no, no," He whispered into her ear, softly kissing her face in an attempt to lessen whatever pain she was in. "You silly girl, you're suppose to go slow, not impale yourself. Didn't your Mother ever tell you that?"

His voice held no harshness or mocking, just a soothing baritone and simple curiosity. He may have been alone and not had very much experience with the female gender, but he wasn't stupid. People threw out many things, many useful things, and those things he found in the dump. He had found romance novels, book, magazines, old textbooks, things of that sort that helped him figure out what to do when the time came for him to, well, fuck – as Martha May had put it. He thought every mother talked to their daughter about sex and what it was like, even giggling teenage girlies talked about those hot and heavy nights with their dates, he had thought with Martha being so forward and brash she would've known a thing or two.

He saw the discomfort start to subside and her eyes cracked open from where they were shut. The truth was she hadn't known, no one had ever told her. She had just imagined what it would be like, from what she read in her Aunt's trashy romance novels and from what her so called friends prattled on about. She hadn't expected to feel the slight sting, she didn't expect to breath harshly or cling to him in obvious distress. She looked away from him, he probably thought her a fool.

"No, she didn't." He cupped her chin with his long fingers and brought it to face him, her pale eyes meeting his. She bit her lip as she felt him throb inside her, unmoving. She saw the clench in his jaw, the rigidness of his muscles. "Y-you can move now."

He released her chin, using both his arms to support his weight so he didn't crush her with it. He slowly pulled out of her and watched as her eyes closed and she bit her lip harder, before slowly plunging back in. He started a slow rhythm, rocking his hips gently against hers, it was proving to be harder than he originally thought. Her moans were becoming louder, her hands moving about his body as she started getting more comfortable and the pleasure started to increase. She gripped her legs tighter around his waist, lifting her hips up higher to meet his, both groaning from the new position.

"G-grinch, harder – ah."

He moved one of his hands to her hip, keeping it elevated as he thrust into her harder. She had said harder but, he didn't want to hurt her. He wasn't really sure how much control he would have over his strength if he let go entirely, but she was driving him mad with her wiggling and arching. He let go a little more, some of his resolve crumbling, and started to pound into her with more force, covering her sighs and moans with his mouth, kissing them away. He let his mouth trail down her neck, leaving heated kisses on her flushed skin. She was pulling at his hand, the one on her hip. He brought it up, grabbing her wrists and pinning them above her head, arching her back further. His hands slide down her arms, over her chest and down to her hips, where he grabbed almost with too much force.

She pushed at his chest, bucking forward and pushing him onto his back. She sat up on her knees, letting him slide fully out of her before taking him all the way back in. They both drew their heads back with a moan at the sensations erupting through them. She put her hands on his chest to steady herself while she brought her hips up and down on him, his own hips sporadicly bucking up to meet hers. His hands found their way to her waist, holding her in place and causing her to fall back on him with much more force.

"Grinch, oh – "

He could feel it once again, he knew he wasn't going to last much longer, but he wanted her to come first, he needed to see her come. He quickly flipped her on her back, grabbing her supple thigh and hooking it around his hips, her thrust into her with more force and speed than he had done. Her back arched, her head tipped back and her eyes closed, mewing noises coming from her mouth.

"Look at me."

His voice came out in a harsh pant, she could barely manage to open them from the pleasure.

"Oh!"

Her walls clenched around him as she came, his hips still rocking fiercely against hers. His sporadic thrusts finally coming to a stop as he groaned and stilled, her name on his lips as he spilled himself into her. He couldn't help but collapse on top of her, but she welcomed the weight, wrapping her arms around him, keeping him in place. Their breathing was heavy, their heart beats erratic, they stayed like that till it slowed. She was stroking his hair, leaning her head against his where it was buried in the crook of her neck. He finally found the willpower to push off of her and she pouted at the loss of contact. He opened his arms for her and she scooted into them, letting his strong arms envelope her frame. They were face to face, looking into the others eyes, breathing still slightly deep.

"Martha, I...I do...love you."

He was getting flustered and she hushed him, kissing his lips lightly, running her fingers through his green mohawk, smiling. "I know you do." A thoughtful look came over her, "Merry Christmas Grinch," she kissed him again. "And Happy Birthday."

He smiled, leaning down and capturing her mouth in his own, pulling her warm body closer to his. This had to be the best Birthday/Christmas, hands down.


End file.
